#000warning

[002shot-arch]

the smell of mould is putrid. a couple corridors away the rats are feasting, at home in the dinginess of the abandoned. how fuckin' ironic, god— if there even was (i haven't believed in years, maybe even ever) had abandoned them. then, they all abandoned their homes. and now fedra thinks they have the right to tell 'em where they can and can't be, locking up buildings with chains and promises of execution in the name of safety. you'd think they'd be trying to salvage any part of the wasted city that they could. no surprise. their lives mean nothing to them. who cares if their crammed like sardines? at least they're alive!

she creeps through the halls. puddles of water splash at her feet, echoing in the silence. her gun rests in one hand. the flashlight in the other. just because they have history doesn't mean she trusts marlene. if it's a battle of who can put a bullet in the others head quicker, well, the firefly queen might be a better sounding name for a horse but placing bets based on names is a pretty shit way to spend cash. but she doubts she'd bring her this far out just for that. nah. their war is with fedra. and she much prefers to stay the hell away from the qz's governing body if she has any choice in the matter. besides, even if a few dozen crossings, shared moonshine and oh i don't know, saving each others lives weren't shared— tess knows she has a name whose reputation precedes it. nobody's sending a lackey to have her meet their so-called leader at a remote location in the night thinking she'd show up all willy nilly if the threat of death so much as wafted in the air. she's ballsy, not fuckin' stupid.

❝   i'm done playin' hide and seek,   ❞ tess calls into the quietude. the conference centre is bordered up but no talk of infected has ever reached her ears. it's just her and marlene here. maybe she scoped out it out a couple o' times between the message three days ago and now. * ballsy, not stupid. footsteps ahead grow louder ahead, causing tess to slow, flashlight pointing until the light wraps around a familiar face. ❝   finally decided to join my party of one huh. thought your lil friend missed somethin' on the invite.   ❞

¹ @000warning (marlene)

[slash-aaa]

there are things outside of his reach, of his control. warren is not death, but only the great entity's apprentice. warren is not all knowing, nor all seeing, but he has been made privy to many things those lower than him would never get to know. how the world truly works, for example. how death may consume all, but the paths that come after death were chosen by those who would move on from it. staring upon the house on the hill, warren places his hands behind his back - watching. waiting. the kids play, they come home when the porch light shines across the dark yard, and the family is happy. for now. when warren enters hill house, the night encompassing the entirety of the structure, he finds mother crain up and walking while the rest of her family sleeps. warren follows, silent. she could see him if she wanted to, but for now, he wanders along with her through the house, unable to interfere, but curious as to what she would do as she's further and further possessed by the house. @000warning.

[youngtraqedy]

it's better to ask questions than to struggle for answers. 　　✉　　@000warning.

“ oh, that's easy for you to say. ”　a shake of her head, a scorn etching itself between her brows as arms fold across her chest. shoulders and chest lift before she exhales, letting the surrounding trees bring comfort and tranquility – as much as they could in their predicament.　“everything that comes outta your mouth sounds bloody perfect. i open mine, and the looks i get... lord, the nerve of some people, i tell ya'.”　eyes widen as if to reenact, before they turn to slits as she shakes her head once more and looks away. molly knows it's because of her accent, the thick irish dripping among the rush of americans. but molly can't help but wonder if there's more to it than that.

[allthatwas-moved]

there's always a way to renegotiate debt. (from river)

(‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎🥀 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎)‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎when her eyes dance over @000warning,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she can't help the grin that crosses over baby pink stained lips.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❝ oh! ❞ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎old ways died silently long ago,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎replaced now with an endless string of questions that stir in her chest,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎not in a bad way.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it's invigorating,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎and feeds the emptiness that was born out of the monotony of her old life.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there was always something more waiting for her,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she just needed the right time.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❝ i have a feeling that negotiate means something different to you,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎don't it? ❞ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎when she raises her brow,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she feels it,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎smile pulled now so wide that the warmth that always sits deep within her chest is shaking alive once more.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎river's ways are different than the rules of space that was taught to her by the doctor.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎be smart,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎be peaceful,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎be rational:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎only after all resources were exhausted could they do...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎aggressive negotiations.

❝ we could always leave,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you know that right? ❞ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but there's a glint in her eye,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎and a way of her tone,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎playful‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎joking as her spine straightens and her toes start to itch.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❝ what do you have in mind? ❞

[endfght]

❝ hey, it's carley, right ? ❞ there is assured hesitation in her tone, a purpose to her presence in front of the other. a softness in her voice that doesn't necessarily shine in eyes beneath furrowed brows. the moonlight spilling in from the open doors provides just enough illumination inside of the train car to christa to make it from one end to the other without falling flat on her face. ❝ it's obvious there was some . . . tension in your group when we first met ⸺ i don't want an explanation, you're entitled to keep whatever the hell happened to yourselves, but i need to know one thing, ❞ she doesn't mean to sound so accusatory, not really, but christa had more than just herself and omid to be looking out for now, and with his leg the way that it was ― she couldn't risk dragging them into the middle of what could be the massive implosion of this group; the frays of which already seemed to be a stone's throw away from that becoming reality. ❝ should omid and i be worried that you're all gonna turn on one another in the middle of the night ? because if the answer is anything but a definitive no, i think we should go our separate ways. ❞

starter call. @000warning's carley.

[suhspiria]

[ brush ]　sender brushes receiver's hair.　　✉　　@000warning.

it feels domestic – almost,  she's not entirely sure what it's supposed to feel like,  but she assumes right here and right now is what it should feel like.  even with the surrounding four walls,  the bolts and bars not making it easy on the imagination,  it didn't seem to matter.  not with bea,  never in the red's presence. how was it, that even now she could feel at ease? that maybe... things could–would, work out. it fills her with an uncanny feeling, one she's hardly ever had good luck with, then again, love wasn't something she'd been able to find in others, let alone partners.

it's easy to close her eyes, lean back into the presence and familiar warmth she's grown quickly accustomed to. just the two of them – if you didn't count outside of red's cell, the faint static of chatter slipping beneath the crack in the door. but the door was closed, a sure sign they wouldn't be disturbed; not unless it was dire. the red's fingers felt far too gentle submerged beneath dirty blonde hair as the pointy bristles from the brush raked through. allie can't help but let out a quiet hum of content, lids daring to flutter – so sure she could be lulled into a dream that featured nothing but red, red, red.

“what are you thinking about? you're pretty quiet back there.”　how long had they been sitting in this silence? far too comfortable letting the seconds tick by as they soak up each other. allie's sure the knots were already out of her hair, but that would mean interrupting the touch and feel of the other woman's fingers. something she'd rather cling onto for as long as red will have her.